


Adoration

by MidnightOwl (beewitch)



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Abuse, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Choking, Degradation, M/M, Violence, Whipping, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beewitch/pseuds/MidnightOwl
Summary: “Is it me that you adore, or simply that you have someone to fasten your affections upon once again?”Armand working through his complicated feelings about Marius.WARNING: this is not a healthy, fluffy kind of fic. Graphic bloodplay and whipping ahead. Possibly dubious consent, due to the fact these damned vampires will endure anything they think is appropriate punishment. This is very graphic.





	Adoration

**Author's Note:**

> This is very graphic, please read the warnings before proceeding.

Marius delicately lifted Armand’s palm to his lips. 

“Ah, how I adore you.” He murmured, lips grazing against his skin with each word.

Armand tilted his head as he gazed down coldly upon the vampire knelt below him.

“Is it me that you adore, or simply that you have someone to fasten your affections upon once again?” 

Marius looked up in shock. While often impish and imprudent, never before had Armand spoken to him so. Armand merely smiled at his shock and trailed his fingers across his lips, and along his jaw, before fastening around Marius’ throat. Marius’ hands fell by his sides as he held Armand’s gaze, limp in submission and apology. It was never good to push Armand. 

Armand slid with grace from his chair into Marius’ lap. With the hand still wrapped around Marius’ throat he guided him to lie on the cold stone floor. Abruptly he jerked Marius’ head to the side. Reaching up with his other hand, a sharp nail pressed into Marius’ neck. As blood began to well, he smeared it and pressed his bloodied finger between Marius’ lips. 

“Or perhaps it’s that you like that someone doesn’t allow you to control them? That I don’t worship you, that I don’t adore you.” 

With each word, Armand’s smile grew more feral, until he bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. More bloodied fingers pushed into his mouth, making sure to smear his blood along the way. Marius merely parted his lips further, allowing the humiliation of being fed his own blood as he slowly licked them clean.

“Eat it.” Armand hissed. 

He pressed his fangs into Marius’ throat and tore the nail mark open wider. The saliva soaked fingers withdrew from his mouth only to fasten themselves firmly into his hair. The fingers around his throat tightened, keeping him still. Armand licked and sucked at the blood, until with his mouth full, he kissed Marius. 

Marius shuddered as Armand’s tongue pushed his own blood into his mouth. Roughly Armand kissed him and bit at his lips, uncaring as his fangs caught on Marius’ lips. Blood dribbled from his neck into his hair and stained his shirt. Each nip threatened to make him moan, and more than a few did.

Never before had he allowed himself to be treated so, to be so thoroughly debased. Worse again was that it came from one that once had been his, to own and mould. That Armand, who’d once worshipped his every word, could treat him so - was unthinkable. And yet here he lay, and allowed it. To admit, perhaps he was not adverse to the treatment.

Armand withdrew, and looked down with pleasure from where he perched atop Marius. As the blood drained from Marius, the bruises around his throat faded. He stroked lightly over the outlines of his fingers, and around the gash in his neck. Marius exhaled sharply as Armand pressed into the wound, yet said nothing.

“Perhaps, I adore you like this.” Armand whispered. 

He raised his hand to his mouth, and bit open his palm where Marius had kissed him. He held his hand above Marius’ mouth, close enough to feel his breath, and watched intently as each drop of blood fell between his lips. Pliant to Armand’s demands, Marius swallowed each. The bruises decorating his throat grew more colourful.

“Once, you’d have whipped me for even thinking to treat you so.” 

Marius licked the blood from his lips.

“If that’s what you wish for me to do, the whip is here.”

Armand wiped his bloody hand across Marius’ ruined shirt as he contemplated. Marius watched him through hooded lids.

“I think,” he rose gracefully and walked across the room, returning with the whip. “I’d much rather whip you.”

Marius shuddered in anticipation. Slowly, he rose from the floor to his knees. 

“If that is what you wish.” He replied hoarsely. 

He discarded his shirt and turned to brace himself against the bed. He waited. 

Armand fingered the whip, and admired the sight before him. Long blond hair, flecked with blood hung loose over Marius’ shoulders. His head was bowed in supplication as he knelt on the floor, dressed only in pants and boots. To be in control of this situation for once, to have their places reversed, was exhilarating. The whip, while not the same as what had once been used upon him, would do well. 

With a sharp crack, he brought it down upon Marius’ back. 

Marius gasped. It felt like fire licking his back. His whole body pulled so taut that he trembled, he endured another lash. And another. And another.

Armand blinked slowly as a low cry echoed throughout the room. The heady scent of blood filled his nose as he noticed Marius, slumped against the bed and shuddering. Blood ran down his back.

“Enough, please.” Marius panted. 

Armand hummed in reply, and tossed the whip aside. He knelt behind Marius, eyes fixed on the blood. The damage only made Marius appear more beautiful, blood stark against pale skin. Feather-light, he lapped up a drop of blood, before licking more firmly against where a lash had opened his skin. Marius groaned.

Armand moved across the expanse of his back, licking the dots of blood as the skin healed. Slowly, the roaring fire in Marius’ back dulled to an ache. Armand gently removed his pants and boots for him, before gently lifting him into his bed. 

“Do not lightly toy with my affections.” Armand murmured. He pressed a soft kiss to Marius’ neck, then his lips. “I am not yours.”


End file.
